Hint, Hint

I want to read a poem and know it’s about me.

I want to know someone took the  time to shape

their emotions into words so I could visualize

how they feel about me. Will someone please

write for me?

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Come As You Are

I’m not sure how to feel about this one, so you guys tell me! It’s quite a bit different than how I normally write. 

 

Come as you are,

not the façade

the others fall for.

 

Come as you are,

remove the costume,

this is not a masquerade.

 

This is me wanting to love you.

 

Wanting to see you,

your fears,

your smiles,

your tears.

 

Come as you are,

be vulnerable,

if only for me.

 

Remove the shackles,

walk free of weight,

come as you are.

 

It’s you I want to feel,

on moonless nights,

come as you are.

 

This is me asking for you.

 

Only you,

not some,

all of you.

 

The world stands still,

waiting for you,

come as you are.

 

Come as you are.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

Monster’s Shadow

I don’t always know why I walk in the monster’s shadow. Just that it seems like a good refuse from a blinding sun, a place to cool off after running for so long. I don’t know why I walk in the monster’s shadow, but it draws me in like a magnet, then holds me in the dark just long enough that I don’t think I’ll ever see light again.

 


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

Caged Bird

I am a caged bird,

allowed only to fly

when a test subject for your coal mines.

 

Do not ask me to sing,

or I will screech until you realize

my golden feathers are worth more

than your safety net.

 

I am a caged bird,

and I will not sing for you

because I know what lies beyond these walls

and I am saving my voice

for someone who deserves to hear my words.

 

I have tasted freedom before

and I will wait in silence

for its doors to open for me once more.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

You Before Me (I’m Not Mad, Just Broken)

Phil Kaye taught me that

if you repeat something enough,

it loses its meaning.

 

I have spent so much time

trying to give purpose to your life

that I have lost my own.

 

I do not know how to tell you

that I am a hypocrite.

 

I spend so many hours

coaxing the safety back on your gun,

with a finger on my own trigger.

 

I convince you to live

while planning my death.

 

I hold hands with my demons

while breaking down yours.

 

I do not know how to ask for help

because you always request it first.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

Sacrificing Angels

I know it’s not my best piece, and normally something such as this would be discarded, but I’ll share anyway. 

 

I ask my demons why,

bribing them with angels.

 

They chew on the halos

like teething rottweilers.

 

Their diet is a fad

made of my happiness.

 

They strip me to bone,

then tell me my fears;

 

“Don’t worry my child,

it’s all in good fun.”


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.